The Dark Tales of Farie: Peter Pan
by Red Cinnamon
Summary: Cleo, a college student in London, finds the legend of Peter Pan is quite real- but not what she thinks. Age 23, and contrary to the stories, Peter is back with his gothic accomplice Tinkerbell for a venture into a new romantic comedy.
1. Boys in Black and Moon Shaped Scars

**The Dark Tales of Farie: Peter Pan  
**By C.D  
  
  
**Chapter 1: Boys in Black and Moon Shaped Scars**  
  
  
It was a normal rainy day, and I had just returned from an impromptu visit to the bank after I discovered my trashy roommate had cleared out the fridge. I don't know how on earth he did it, I was only at school for two hours. So needless to say I was a  
little peeved at him. Days like those reminded me of my dear overprotective mother back in the states warning me about those "crazies" that lurk around London. But frankly crazies lurk around within just about every city limit outside Lemonville, Ohio.   
  
Yes, my hometown. Too small to be seen on a map, but quaint none the less. Of course I was excited about moving out after high school. To make a long story short I got a job at a neighboring pizza parlor by my apartment and met Trestand. Spacy, tired, mistaken to be high Trestand. My roommate. Hey I'm a sucker for accents, but he's my bud. So there.  
  
Anyway, It was a normal rainy day and I was walking along the damp black streets of London when I heard a rustle to my right. I stopped in my tracks and peered into the ally beside me. A dark figure, sitting on his knees hunched over with his back to me. He was draped beneath a black trench coat, and I noticed this right before he flopped to his back like a fish out of water and slammed the backs of his hands beside him.   
My conscience told me to keep walking, that maybe those crazies really did exist and I was gonna be raped and killed if I didn't run far away. So what do I do? Walk over to him.  
  
I raised a brow as I looked down upon his figure, and had to lean over far enough to get a good look at his face. He was too clean to be a homeless drunkard, and  
too good looking to be a rugged outlaw. The guy was out cold, but I couldn't find a scratch on him. Dark black hair, tinted with a hue of purple set over his delicate skin; and his body was sleek and powerful. Must have been an athlete. I looked both ways before kneeling down and checking him for any kind of weapon before carefully pushing up his shirt. At first sight of the gash I cringed. The wound was deep and gushing out a profuse amount of blood.   
  
Not enough to bleed to death, but enough for me to decide I couldn't just LEAVE him there.   
  
So I hooked my purse over my shoulder and looped my arms beneath his. It took me a while, but I dragged the guy up to my apartment. It wasn't a long way, probably not even half a block. And strangely, he wasn't that heavy. Either I had acquired some sudden inhuman strength, or he weighed sixty pounds. And to tell you the truth I was leaning towards answer B. Old lady Whethers was in the lobby, and she gawked at  
the sight before her. Thank God that woman is losing a few marbles. Cause when she asked me what I was doing, I calmly responded:  
  
"I found a runt on the street." I smirked, "Think I'm gonna keep him."  
  
"How nice." She replied, in an accent as strong as Treston's, "I'll bring by some cookies later."  
  
With that she flashed a brilliant "I don't know where the hell I am" smile. I dragged the guy into the antique elevator and dropped him with a thud. My back was starting to hurt. The thing was so old, it took forever to get to the fifth floor. Usually I took the  
stairs, but I didn't want to have to add a broken leg to his list of injuries. Just as the little arrow inched across the first floor I sighed, flicking the golden orchid strands of hair out of my eyes. As I leaned against the rickety wall of the shaking box, a  
soft sound caught my ear. A faint groan.  
  
I looked down at him and kneeled by his side. The guy's eyes opened just slightly, and I gasped upon their appearance. Vibrant, glowing gold. Flecks of metallic silver fluttered around his pupils as if being a swarm of insects. Sure I wear purple contact  
lenses, but damn- I had never seen eyes like those. He blinked sleepily and tilted his head towards me.  
  
"Um, hey." I said, eyes darting around me. The soft chime of the floor two signal was heard behind me as I put a soggy strand of hair behind my ear, "You don't know me, but I found you in the street. I think someone attacked you, so I'm gonna bring you home and patch you up, all right?"  
  
The guy wasn't even to the point of being half asleep. Being so out of it, he didn't answer for a long time. As the ding of the third floor was heard he sat up, head drooping against the wall for support. I touched his shoulder while quietly requesting he stay down. Opening his eyes a little more (which was still only a slit) he blinked at me, and a cold, trembling hand set against my cheek. My eyes whipped over to it, probably looking as if It were alive and crawling into my face.  
  
Before I had any vague conception of what was going on he kissed me. Yes, abrupt and without warning, the stranger kissed me. I'm sure my expression was something to see, as his lips gently rolled against mine, shaking almost as badly as his hands. Just as I was about to set my hand on his chest and push him back, something different filtered into my body. A power of some strange sort, that tickled my lips like static electricity. Every nerve ending on my body stood on end and tingled under the foreign sensation, and I closed my eyes as my body immersed itself in it.  
  
Suddenly, I felt as if all my weight was taken from me and launched into space. I was light as a feather, and I could no longer feel the ratty red carpet beneath my palms and knees. As I opened my eyes, I broke away from him and gasped. I was floating! No more than a foot off the ground-I was levitating! Then the stranger closed his eyes and flopped onto his shoulder sleepily. Of course I was dropped to the ground with a thud, and before I could yell and scream and gawk he was out.   
  
The sharp ding of the fifth floor buzzer was heard, and the doors opened in an unruly slide. I looked to him, then my door, to him, to the door and blinked. This was quite odd indeed. More peculiar than the people at my college. I grumbled and dragged the guy by my door, shakily got the key out and opened it. It was trashy, as usual. Trestand really needed to get another job, one that kept him away at work as long as school did for me. It would keep the apartment looking a little more presentable anyway.  
  
I groaned as I dragged the mystery man in, loosely kicking boxes and clean, but raggy clothes aside. I made my way over to my bed (which was nicely made) and dropped his rag doll body beside it. Scratching my head, I shrugged and made an attempt at picking him up. The guy was unfaltering light, which was incredibly unnatural for someone of his obvious strength. Don't get me wrong, the guy wasn't BULKY, but he looked strong and sleek for such a thin body.  
  
Once I had him up on my bed, I began to worry about him bleeding all over my mother's fluffy white comforter. The thing really was like an enlarged pillow, and I wasn't about to come home to mom saying, "Oh sorry. I dragged a strange guy off the street and HE was the one who bled all over the sheets.". She'd um- pass out.  
  
There was a shuffle behind me, as Trestand strolled up in his boxers showing me he had just woken up from his fifth nap of the day. He raised a brow upon the sight before him as I shook my head and waved my arms about, "It's not what it looks like!"  
  
"Wow. You work silently, don't ya?"  
  
"No Trestand! I found this guy on the street and he was bleeding, so I figured.."  
  
He interrupted, "Found him on the street? Come on now, you don't need to get desperate."  
  
"Shut up and let me finish!" I snapped, "On the elevator ride up here the most amazing thing happened--"  
  
"Whoa." he blinked, "Work fast too."  
  
I glared and shooed him away. Jerk. Whatever. Never mind. Don't you have work to go to or something? Or another half ass attempt at band practice with the other three wannabee-monkeys?  
  
Trestand brought the cigarette from his lips and set a tentative hand over his chest, It hurts me when you say that luv, it really does. For a friend, he's pretty affectionate, no?  
  
I smirked, Good. Now go make yourself useful and run down to the corner store. We're out of gaws and bandages from your last accident with the chess champ. Honestly, who breaks their ankle in a chess match?  
  
He rolled his eyes and pivoted, grabbing his jeans off the chair in front of our computer (which is actually mine). I don't know why he wasn't reluctant to get dressed, let alone do something that required any range of movement. Of course on his way out he sloppily reminded me it was a pinky. Fractured _pinky toe_ in a chess match.   
  
So I was left alone with the stranger. I took some time to change out of my good clothes, and got into some old ones that I wouldn't mind getting dirty. To tell you the truth I think at the time I was being a tad paranoid about the blood factor. Perhaps being wrapped up in a situation like that does that to a person. I shuffled over to the bed and got him to a sitting position so I could take the trench coat off.  
  
After getting one sleeve, I had to hook one arm in front of his chest to keep him upright. That was when it happened. A startled gasp came from beneath me, and I was suddenly thrown back and grabbed by the neck. Surprisingly, I didn't make a sound as the pressure of a small blade pricked into my neck. A long period of silence slipped by.  
  
I reached a shaking hand out and grabbed his wrist.  
  
Oi. Guy. I'm-I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? I gasped.  
  
His golden eyes darted about the room, those silver flecks swirling around his iris rapidly. His gaze fell upon me and narrowed.  
  
I managed, I found you on the street. A-and I just wanna help you. Okay?  
  
He didn't answer, so I repeated myself, Okay? C'mon. Put the knife down. I-I'm a..friend.  
  
A faint something that could have been mistaken as a smile stretched across his lips before he let go of me and the dagger dropped to the floor. I looked down at it, noticing it wasn't as big as it felt- and hand made by the same token. He bit his lip, laughing faintly as I rubbed my neck.  
  
I raised a brow, You okay?  
  
I did it. he grinned, I made it out.  
  
All righty then? was my reply, as I looked back and forth, You better stay down. You seem pretty hurt.  
  
His eyes shifted down to his chest, and he saw the moon shaped scar and grimaced. The guy remained quite calm considering clumpy flakes of skin had started to surface around it. Even I was a little grossed out.  
  
What's your name? He asked me sharply.  
  
Uh- Cleo. Cleo Mathews. Listen is there a place I can take y-  
  
he held his hand out to me, Peter Pan.  
  
I reached out to shake it and he swiped it backwards, an expression streaking his face that was clearly taunting. Just as I was about to snap at him for acting like a third grader, something struck me.  
  
Peter Pan? I laughed, Come on, you're not serious. Like the little boy from the play?  
  
Um- I don't know anything about a play, but I'm quite sure I'm who I say I am.  
  
I laughed, Yeah right. Then I guess you haven't heard of the animated movie about you. Yes, the little red head kid in tights with his magical fairy. Now really, what's your name?  
  
_Peter Pan_. It's not _that_ wierd. And her name is Tinkerbell thank you very much. Although think I lost her somewhere along the line. He commented quite ignorantly, like his maturity level hadn't changed in years, An animated movie? I've heard of those. I bet the Darling family ratted out to the world. Never liked them in the first place. I smiled, hearing his slight British accent.  
  
Do you fly too? I said in a tone that was meant to be sarcastic, but didn't quite come out that way.  
  
He nodded. Suddenly, I remembered the experience in the elevator. I _was_ floating, and I was sure I wasn't imagining it.   
  
So you're telling me you just flew in from Never Never Land? I smirked,   
  
he shrugged, It's been years since I last visited here. Things got pretty lonely back there after that bitch Wendy took all the lost boys home. I mean, wot the hell am I supposed to do? Hang out with the indians? They're a bunch of pot-heads anyway.   
  
..So how'd you get the gash?  
  
Pirates. Ran into them before take off, and of course Tigerlilly wasn't any help. Her and her band of lesbians were too wasted from the rave they had the night before. Neverland sucks now. It really does.  
  
I touched my forehead, I guess that explains the levitation act in the elevator.  
  
  
  
You don't remember, do ya? On the way up here you kissed me and-  
  
Kiss? Where? Where'd ya put it? he looking me up and down.  
  
I giggled. I suddenly wished I had a thimble to hold out or something- it would only fit. So the stories were real, the movie was true. And all this happened because of Wendy Darling telling everyone about him? This was all too much to handle on such an average day. I blinked, snapping out of it as he stood up and walked towards the small bathroom.  
  
H-hey! Wait a minute. Should you be doing that? I mean- I started.  
  
Peter reassured, I've had worse, ya know.  
  
Yet no more than three seconds after he entered our tiny- closet sized bathroom did he jump at what he saw in the mirror. With an expression of pure and utter shock he touched his face. After seeing that it was in fact real, he turned his chin from side to side before grinning at me like a wild man. I raised a brow.  
  
he said in amazement, I'm all grown up!  
  
That's the thing that surprises me, I said to Peter, squeezing in the small room beside him, Peter Pan is supposed to be a little boy. Yet you're clearly..not.  
  
I guess- the years caught up with me, ay? It _has_ been a while ya know. Then he stood out in front of me and held his arms out, How do I look?  
  
I hesitated, eyes dancing about, Good, I guess?  
  
Peter looked disappointed, My first time to grow up and I'm just _good_? C'mon Cleo! Try an' elaborate!  
  
I laughed. But that was when someone fumbled with the lock at the door. I turned my head around just in time to see Trestand nearly fall through the door. His hands were graciously occupied with plastic bags full of band-aids and what not. My roommate looked at me and held them in the air.  
  
This good enough princess? he asked before taking note to what stood behind me, but then he winced. That was when I heard the loud thump behind me.  
  
I whipped my head around and looked down to see him sprawled out on the floor like a rag doll. Grumbling I grabbed his arms and dragged him back out to my room. Hero or not, when you're hurt- you're hurt. And when ya loose blood, you don't romp around on your feet. Trestand saw this and inquired,  
  
Who is e, Cleo?   
  
I told you. I saw him on the street and he's got this really nasty scar. But that's not important! Trestand- I grabbed his shoulders, This guy is the real Peter Pan!  
  
He paused for a moment before silence rolled by like an eerie fog. I felt my expression slowly start to drop and become stiff before he widened his eyes in new found realization. We both gasped in excitement before he said,  
  
Who's Peter Pan?  
  
Trestand you dolt! _Peter Pan_! The little boy with his fairy that fly around and fight pirates and stuff! I explained making little punching gestures at his chest.  
  
His expression remailed taut as he raised the bags up and dropped them in my arms. As I grumbled slightly, he commented, I'm going back to sleep.. And I stuck my tongue out at him for that one. Dullard.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------  
  
I took what little time I had before he woke up again and cleaned him up. It was starting to get dark when I had a lamp shining brightly on his wound, and I dabbed at it gently with the gauss Trestand bought. That's the upside about him being unconscious- he wouldn't squirm at the burning alcohol.  
  
In all honesty, I should have called a hospital. But there wasn't one for miles in our area- and Trestand and I didn't own a car. Sure, we could have called an ambulance to get there, but all that trouble for something that could be patched up at home? In any case, It took me a while, but Peter was looking much better when I was done. All those years as a nurse's assistant when I was a camp counselor in America helped.  
  
But there was one problem- where was he gonna sleep? The floor wasn't exactly the best place to dump a hurt person, and I'd sooner throw him out a window than let him room with Trestand. On the rare occurrence I enter my roomie's domain, I best take a switchblade if I want to make it through alive. I sighed- well as long as he's out of it...  
  
I took a shower before I went to bed, and dried my hair for the next day. After slipping into some warm flannel pajamas, I sighed and stared at him. Four hours later and he was still out cold. So pushing him over a little further in my bed, I slid in beside him and felt my exposed arms brush against his bare chest. The lamp was turned off with a click, and I was left in darkness with only the sound of his gentle breathing.  
  
I sniffled and closed my eyes, attempting to get some sleep before work in the morning. Honestly, who's gonna buy pizza at ten a.m? Nevertheless I would be faced with the task of waking up the dullard- which is usually done screaming outside his door. Either that or I'll open the door just quick enough to throw something in. So there I lay, hopelessly staring into the ceiling once I realized my body wasn't ready for sleep yet.  
  
I felt strangely excited at the fact such a mysterious man had walked into my life. Or rather mysterious boy. There he was, trapped in that beautiful body- yet still acted like a thirteen year old. How odd. Yet it's situations like this that get girls murdered on the streets. I wouldn't have believed him if it weren't for what happened in the elevator.   
  
My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the feeling of fingertips brushing lightly across my hips. We both lay on our sides, and he had set his palm gently against my waist. Strange how someone who has never touched a female in his life could be so comfortable with touch- in his subconscious anyway. I thought back to the plays when Wendy would just try and touch Peter's shoulder, and he would jump like her hands were on fire. Hn.  
  
The night wore on, and I didn't even remember falling asleep. I woke up only once, and that was when Peter fidgeted in his sleep. I found it incredible he could move at all- the gash was moon shaped and about a foot long. Not _too_ deep, but bad enough to stiffen when he rolled over.   
  
But no sooner did I close my eyes, did the burning cream colored rays shine through my window.  
  
I squinted and grumbled. Morning comes too early, you know? If the world could have three extra hours, people would be a lot better off. In any case, the light streams were bright enough to see flecks of dust floating among them. I sighed and turned over to my back- Peter's body was suspiciously absent. I sat up and his something hard, and my forehead clunked against it's bony surface.  
  
we both whined at the same time.  
  
I blinked, Peter, what are you doing up there?  
  
he asked like a child.  
  
He sat atop my bed frame, or actually- floating atop it. Peter had been leaning over me, his dark bangs hanging loosely from his face. He grinned devilishly, sending the metallic flecks whirling about his gold eyes.  
  
So what are we gon'ta do today? he asked, arching his shoulders up in excitement.  
  
Funny you should ask that. I sat up and turned around to him, We are going to work.  
  
he grimaced, _Work_ is for people with no adventure.  
  
Yes. Yes. But here we don't have pirates of pot head indians. You gotta make a living or you'll starve to death on the streets. I explained, pulling on my gray sweater, You're in the real world now, Peter. You used to be a normal human too, you know?  
  
He paused, as if I had said something terribly horrible to him. I bit my lip, debating is to taking back what I had said. Perhaps this was too much to weigh on such a playful and lighthearted mind. I jumped into my jeans and looked at him, not really believing I was talking to a guy that was floating in my room.  
  
I'm gonna go wake up the dullard real quick. Stay right there. I said to him before walking over to Trestand's door.   
  
Today Peter was going to see his first day of real _adult_ work.


	2. Faries in Fishnet

**The Dark Tales of Farie: Peter Pan  
**By C.D  
**  
  
Chapter 2: Faries in Fishnet**  
  
  
Number three. Order's up. I said out into the empty pizza parlor. Well, just Peter and some other guy.  
  
The man sitting beside Peter on the barstool blinked and looked at his ticket.  
  
I said slowly.  
  
He raised a brow and ran his finger along the piece of paper as if reading a long sentence. I rolled my eyes.  
  
Three. Order. Now. I said shoving the pizza box in his face, Enjoy sir. Have a nice day.  
  
He nodded me a thank you and was on his way. British people...goodness. Before we left, we salvaged some of Trestand's clothing for our new found guest. He couldn't very well walk around town with bloody clothing, now could he? Speaking of which- I leaned over the counter to him just in time to see him eying his food like it was going to do a trick.  
  
You seem much better this morning, Peter. I commented, Fast healer?  
  
I wouldn't know. he replied cluelessly, I've never been hit before.  
  
Peter touched his chest before lifting his shirt up enough to reveal the moon shaped gash. Perhaps he was a fast healer. It had reduced itself to no more than pink, puffy skin. One could tell it was growing stiff though, he couldn't move about very well.  
  
I wrinkled a brow, You really aren't used to pain, are you?  
  
He shook his head, his gold and silver eyes looking as innocent as a person probably could be. He looked presentable today, if I do say so myself. He sat wearing Trestand's only pair of warm khakis and a white button down shirt. I couldn't help but wonder if he was getting bored waiting for Trestand and I to get off work. Yet he seemed content- aimlessly playing with the slice I gave him an hour ago.  
  
came my room mate's voice, followed by the sound of a bell, Why the ell are we making all this food anyway? It's not like anyone ever comes in on rainy days anyway.  
  
I was about to respond when I noticed a small bit of cigarette ash fall from his little white roll of paper, to the pizza he held in his hand. I grimaced.  
  
Would you put that out? I sincerely hope you haven't poisoned any of our few customers today. I said, Regardless of the fact that we -have none.  
  
Yet that was when I was proven wrong. The soft chime of the bell by the door echoed throughout the room. As if caught in some sort of cliche-like slow motion, I saw the dark figure enter the room. Her high heeled boots clicked against the red and yellow tiled floor, and she looked up at us through the stringy black dredlocks she called hair. Mascara ran freely onto the floor- yet an enormous amount managed to stay on her eyes.  
  
The girl looked up at us revealing a truly scary human being. And she pushed her hair behind her ears and checked her dark purple lipstick before strolling up to the cash register- at which I stood. I blinked resisting the urge to stare at her black almost renaissance dress- yet it became obscured by the tattered skirt and fishnet hose.  
  
Good day. I said, How may I help you?  
  
The woman stared at me for a good long while before her black eyes shifted to Peter. A devilish smile crept across her pale features as she set a hand on his shoulder, sending the unsuspecting dimwit leaping in the air. And leap he did- freezing and levitating a good five inches before he got a look at who she was.  
  
He gaped, wide eyed.  
  
You maniacal bastard. she snapped in that oh-so-familiar accent, Where do you come off ditching me back in that shit hole of a home we live in?  
  
I'm sorry, luv. I really am. You see I had a run in with-  
  
Sorry nothing, dip shit. Now buy me a drink. her voice was gruff and sawed off like she had been screaming for days.  
  
I stuttered, _You're Tinkerbell_?  
  
Of course. Peter chirped.  
  
Who the fuck did you think I wos? she retorted, digging through her ratted black purse.  
  
She's a real sweetie when she's all sobered up. I promise. Tink, this is Cleo. The pirates nearly did me in, so she had to take care of me once I got here. Peter explained, pulling up a chair next to the bar.  
  
Tinkerbell stared at Peter for a while before growling in a monotonous, uncaring voice, Where's my bloody drink?  
  
It's a pleasure and all, but ah- I said, How did you get here?  
  
Unfortunately I'm stuck to the lucky bastard by bonds humans like you couldn't comprehend. she said dropping a soggy box of cigarettes on the bar top, Wherever he goes, I have to be within a certain amount of miles.  
  
Nevertheless I was wondering when you would get here. Can she stay with us Cleo? Please? Peter asked me. I watched the gothic farie of the underworld take out a lighter and actually managed to make an orange glow at the end of the soggy roll.  
  
Fuck that, Pan. I've got a room booked at the Holiday Inn down the street. No way in hell I'm staying anywhere near your scrawny arse. No more than I have to anyway. Was her reply. I sighed in relief. We didn't have that much space, and I knew what the alternative would be...  
  
_Me and her, sharing a bed while Trestand and Peter played sleep over in the other room. She would look over to me and ask, Mind if I light up a midnight joint? in that gruff, cancer filled voice._  
  
I shook the daydream out of my head and got back on task.   
  
Cleo and I were going to have a night on the town tonight, Tink. Would you like to come along? Peter asked inquisitively. I inwardly groaned.  
  
Like I have a bloody choice. she growled.  
  
Great! We can make a party out of the situation, huh? He grinned. I smiled at his pronunciation of situation becoming sit-chee-ation'.  
  
Suit yourself, Pan. She grumbled, standing up and heading towards the back, I'm gonta go powder my nose.  
  
Just as she was out of sight, I let my smile drop. This was strange indeed. How could someone as free spirited as Peter end up with such a sadistic creature such as she. Not that I was jealous in the least, but I found it hard to wrap my mind around.  
  
Isn't she great? Peter asked me with stars in his eyes, And now that she isn't five inches tall, Tink's become a real beaut.  
  
I forced a fake smile,   
  
Peter waited a few moments before giving me the pleasure of a warm chuckle, I'm fooling with you, luv. and a wink for good measure.  
  
I grinned in response, I should have known.  
  
  
***  
  
  
The rest of the day was interesting. Tinkerbell and Peter sat at the bar, exchanging stories from Neverland and what not. Well, he did all the talking anyway. She had luckily salvaged a bottle from the liquor store next door- so I guess the farie was content.  
  
And soon, five o'clock arrived and my co-worker Roger stepped in to take my place. Trestand and I retreated to the apartment to clean up a bit first. Peter and his side kick were left in the lobby- which was more of a run down atrium than anything. My roomie slipped on a pair of khakis and a black button down shirt while I rummaged through my small closet.  
  
When I finally emerged, I looked him up and down.  
  
Dressing up tonight, are we? I asked.  
  
He took the white roll away from his lips and slicked his white blonde hair back, If you consider this dressing up, why not?  
  
I shrugged, a bit surprised he had heard me let alone reply with a witty retort. When we both felt we looked presentable, we headed downstairs.However upon the long elevator ride down, I couldn't help but comment to my favorite Brit, Nothing is too important to make you shave, is it?  
  
he shrugged before gracing me with his jagged smile. I paused before laughing lightly.  
  
I slipped on a khaki colored jean jacket over my red top just before we left. I think it helped in pulling the rose colored skirt I picked out too. And perhaps the tennis shoes where a nice touch. Not that I'm usually one to become finicky over fashion, but I couldn't very well let my dead head roomie show me up. Sure enough when the rickety gold doors opened, there they were.  
  
Tinkerbell sat on the concrete ledge next to a bunch of plants while Peter blabbed on and on with the person across from her. Our flying friend from another world had certainly talked up a storm with Old lady Whethers. And for the first time in my life, she looked as if she were horribly confused. Much like the way people look at her when she begins her ramblings.  
  
...So that was the day I _almost_ lost my boyish virginity. But then I figured out that it wasn't TigerLilly at all! It was a tree stump the entire time! Oh! Funny, ay? Peter paused upon her frozen stare, Ma'am? Ello? Good God Cleo! I've killed another one!!  
  
I raised a brow, Peter, how can you kill someone by talking too much.  
  
Believe me. He's done it before. replied Tinkerbell, he speech slurred by the cigarette between her lips.  
  
In the name of all things holy, Cleo. Find some help for the lad. He's gone stark raving mad. came a soft voice which was Lady Whethers'. I wanted to laugh outloud. Leave it to Peter to bring an old eccentric woman to her senses.  
  
Feeling lucky I had missed the whereabouts of his story, I sighed just in time to hear Peter leap off the concrete ledge and make his way over to me. Of course he allowed himself to levitate a bit, his toes mere inches off the ground. Peter grabbed my wrist and leered me off to the side.  
  
So what are we gonta do tonight, Cleo? Explore a lost cave, catch a mischief making beast, or maybe, he covered his mouth in excitement, -find buried treasure!  
  
Eh- you're not in Neverland anymore Peter. We don't have any of those things around here. But we do have lost of things that might interest you just the same, if not more. I tried to compensate.  
  
He blinked for a moment, before those little flecks of silver and gold spun around his eyes as if in a whirlpool, Great! I like it! Tink! We're gonta have some new adventures tonight! Isn't it great? he shouted behind him.  
  
A brash voice replied a ways back, I don't care you little pest.  
  
Wull come on! We don't have all night! Peter said before grabbing my hand. He entwined my fingers ever so quickly before running out the door- dragging me along with him.


	3. Make a Wish

**The Dark Tales of Farie: Peter Pan  
**By C.D  
  
  
**Chapter 3: Make a Wish  
**  
  
We began the night heading up to the old Circle Theater on 32nd Street. This movie complex had been running since films were no more than a bunch of mimes running around with a piano in back. Trestand and I visited frequently, probably since we're fans of Dick Tracey and the Twilight Zone, and that's all they showed here.  
  
But tonight they were showing something extra special. The infamous 1963 edition of King Kong Vs. Godzilla! Trestand and I had waited for weeks for this baby to come out. We both agreed that this was good nourishment to the brain for first time movie goers. Standing in line to get food was a treat in itself for Peter. His eyes darted about the room like a kid in a candy store.  
  
The lobby was small, but beautiful in it's European charm. Chocolate-red velvet and gold framing was everywhere. When we made it up to the concessions stand, Peter nearly made a blowfish on the window to the candy.  
  
Easy. Easy there. I urged him, You can try all you want, but you're not gonna go through it. Okay buddy?  
  
New boyfriend Cleo? said the boy behind the counter, So you must've given up on pretty boy over there.  
  
I looked back to Trestand, who watched Tinkerbell put out a cigarette on the gold plated antique wall sconce.   
  
Tsh. Sure. Real heart breaker I am. I grinned at the employee, How are ya doing today Randal?  
  
Jus fine an' dandy. was his reply. Randal Scott was the cutie who worked concessions at the Circle Theater. He asked me out on a few dates way back when I first moved in with Trestand. But that's ancient history.  
  
We'll have the usual. I said before grabbing Peter's collar and ripping him off the glass, And a bag of M&M's for the charming date as well.  
  
He waved at Randal coyly, and I dropped him. Our consisted of one medium popcorn. Trestand and I had the same every time we came here. In all honesty, we needed a large, but we had more fun fighting over the popcorn than actually sharing it. There were only four other people in the theater that night. Which was four more than usual.  
  
We found a nice place in the middle, and settled into the crushed velvet seats. Peter, who was as energetic as ever, insisted he be by me. Meanwhile, I got the feeling Trestand and everyone's favorite farie were bonding. I leaned over to see them lighting eachother's cigarettes. A trait both have in common. Breaking rules.  
  
When I was done gawking at the possibility of flirtation between the two, I looked back to see Peter leaning over the seat in front of him. An expression of disappointment flickered across his face for a brief moment before he turned his face to me and blinked.  
  
Is this all you real world' folk do? he asked rather rudely, yet with an innocent tone.  
  
Firstly, no. Secondly, You're a real world person too ya know. I replied, Have you never heard of the virtue of patience? Good things come to those who wait.  
  
And sure enough, the lights began to dim. Soon the only light left in the room was spurred from both the numbers counting down on the screen and Peter's electric eyes.  
And electric they were, lighting up in shining brilliance. He looked like he had just seen the face of God. And the countdown was only on 3.  
  
Then suddenly, Godzilla's thundering roar bellowed throughout the room. It echoed throughout every wall and reverberated back again. Trestand and I laughed, favoring each other with a high five. But suddenly, my other arm was squeezed with an amount of strength that made me nearly jump out of my seat.  
  
I looked to my right to see none other than Peter clinging onto my arm for dear life. He kept his eyes on the screen nonetheless, absolutely fascinated. His jaw dropped as I eased into this new position he had me in.  
  
It's amazing! We don't have creatures like this in Neverland! he told me, mouth gaping in awe.  
  
Well, Peter..actually, it's just a Japanese guy in a- I stopped. He wasn't listening anyway. And hey, why tell a three year old Santa Claus got shot by the Mafia?  
  
I looked over to see that even Tinkerbell was astonished by what she saw before her. Or at least I thought I might have seen her eyes get wide. It's hard to tell behind all that make up. So needless to say, we sat back and watched the movie. Peter had the time of his life. He leaned on the seat in front of him nearly the entire time.  
  
And whenever a suspenseful moment would come about, he would retreat to my arm- curling up in an unflattering ball in his chair. Every once in a while I would reach over and pat his head, attempting to explain the poor monkey' wasn't really thrown through a building.  
  
Not to mention his amazing consumption of those M&M's. The way Peter described the taste sounded like a detailed orgasm of sorts.  
  
Near the end, through the final duke out between the reptilian god and the chaotic chimp, Peter was nearly bouncing in his seat. He rooted for King Kong with all his heart. Yet I couldn't bear to break it to him that I was a die hard Godzilla fan. People in the theater began to shoosh him at one point. And then..the climax.  
  
The house lights came back on, and he blinked and looked about like a child. When Trestand and Tinkerbell rose the their feet, I tapped Peter on the shoulder as a signal to stop hanging off the chair in front of him. When he looked up at me he had tears in his eyes. I blinked, showing an expression of worry, Peter, are you okay?  
  
I'm fine Cleo. It's just so sad. Those poor creatures; they both deserved to live. He sat back in his seat.  
  
Oh Peter. I sighed, It's okay. They're all right I'm sure. Don't worry about em, okay?  
  
He humored me with a smile, If you say so. But that was wonderful! he paused, holding up the empty bag of M&M's, And these are wonderful!- whatever you call them.  
  
Ah- but the night is young, Pan. We still have lots more to show you.  
  
His eyes lit up, stirring those silver flecks about like flies,   
  
***  
  
We made our way down the street just as the clock struck nine. I decided to take the two down Wicker St., which is a popular artist hang out in London. Or at least in our neighborhood. It features starving artists, beatniks, independent films, and all around crazy people. Tinkerbell fit right in, Peter however...  
  
  
  
Peter! Shh! You're drawing a crowd!  
  
Cleo look! He does everything I do! He grinned widely, standing before the mime that did the same.  
  
I walked up to him and grabbed his arm, That's what mimes do, Peter. He just wants money, that's all.  
  
The mime started tugging at the invisible force grabbing his elbow as well. I glared at the ghostly face as Peter waved goodbye to him while being yanked away. However his silent friend did not repeat his actions, only flipped him the bird. Never stiff a mime out of his tip. That's all I have to say.  
  
Our group continued down the interesting little street until we came to a quaint little bar. There was seemingly nothing special about it. Not much lighting, a moderate amount of scenery. Well, I guess you could count the hubcap stapled to the wall, but I wasn't quite sure of what the bar owner was shooting for in that.  
  
I must say Tinkerbell was sure happy, especially with her date being a heavy drinker as well. I made a mental note to call a cab later.  
  
In the mean time, Peter and I sat at the bar and had a couple drinks. Surprisingly enough, this wasn't his first taste of alcohol. Apparently he had been smuggling rum from the pirates ever since he could remember. So as Trestand and Tinkerbell carried out their own freakish conversation, I ordered Peter another drink. I'm not sure I wanted to, but I caught the tail end of their conversation.  
  
Something involving a tampon, a conch shell, and a squirrel. I think my imagination could have done without that one.  
  
This is great and all, Cleo- but did we come here just to drink? Peter asked me.  
  
No patience at all. You'd fail as one crummy Jedi, you know that? was my reply.  
  
He looked entirely confused, Wots a Jedie?  
  
Remind me to tell you later. I said, noticing the clock, To tell you the truth we're just killing time until later.  
  
Peter arched his head around to his farie accomplice and Trestand. He grimaced ever so slightly at seeing them laugh hysterically at something, then turned back to me. I tilted my head- perhaps he was in love with Tinkerbell. How would I know? They had been together for most of their lives. It would make sense.  
  
I'll have to bring you to Neverland someday Cleo. he said out of the blue, To repay you I mean.  
  
I smiled, No need to pay me back. But Peter, I thought only kids could go to Neverland. And the whole happy thoughts thing- Do you think it would work?  
  
His golden eyes paused for a moment before he broke out into a gingerly laugh, Only kids? And happy thoughts? Good Lord, Wendy really did fuck up things, didn't she?  
  
I suppose so. I replied, And if that's the case than I'd love for you to take me there someday. It sounds interesting.  
  
You're correct in that. At least there's one thing the Darling family didn't twist out of proportion.  
  
The night wore on, and I looked at my watch when the hand was almost to 11:55. A band had come along at one point- odd people they were. London was full of musical groups that were just starting out, and most of them were too wierd to make it any where else. But these guys were something else. They called themselves the Gorillas or something.  
  
In any case, I called a cab for Trestand and Tinkerbell- for sure enough those two had exceeded their limit. In fear of having to carry them home, and ending the rest of the night- Peter and I felt it was for the best. And they gladly accepted. If I didn't know any better, I had a feeling I wasn't going to get any sleep that night.  
  
My stop watch beeped me at 11:59, so I grabbed Peter's wrist and hurried outside. He stumbled a few times, probably from the one too many drinks he had; but once we were out standing in the middle of the street he stopped. His glowing metallic eyes flashed to me as he asked, Cleo, wot's happening?  
  
Shh- look. I grabbed his chin and flipped his head back to look down the street.  
  
Just as the clock struck twelve, a wave of lights and colors flourished throughout the infamous Wicker Street. Innumerable stands of lights connected from building, to tree, to park bench, to mailbox, and back to building. I had seen it many times before, but never as beautiful as that night.   
  
Rainbow lights. Twinkle lights. Normal lights. Every kind of Christmas light one could imagine was entwined above our heads so thickly that it was hard to tell what was a star, and what was a bulb. The street goers paused to stop and commence with the oohs-and-aahs.  
  
Such a simple thing really. Yet some of the smallest things can make a huge impact of life. And it certainly seemed to be that way with Peter. He stood dumbstruck for a few moments, before looking at me with his jaw dropped. I grinned.  
  
You like it Peter?  
  
He hesitated for a moment before answering, It's amazing Cleo! It's like fireflies! Only millions of them!  
  
So we walked down the street a bit, both arching our necks to never take out eyes off the stream of Christmas lights both above us and around us. Trees were strung completely around, right down to every branch. Some strands fell from the drain pipes to the ground like vines. Either that or the store owners couldn't find anything to attach the ends to.  
  
There was a small band playing in the middle of the square. And small it was, consisting of an accordion, a fiddle, and some guy drumming on a single drum. The guy with the accordion sang something in such a thick Irish accent, I couldn't understand him. Before I could listen any longer, my wrist was jerked out of the crowd.  
  
I fumbled over to a fountain, and found myself gazing into it's crystal blue water. Next to my reflection, grinned Peter's. I smiled back and looked to my side to comment. Yet I was surprised to see him digging through his pockets and turned the other way. I raised a brow and looked back down into the water. His reflection silently laughed and waved to me before disappearing.  
  
I quriked a brow. How curious. By then the real Peter turned around and held a coin over the fountain.  
  
Make a wish. he told me, taking my hand.  
  
Together we held the shiny flat object, entangled between unsure fingertips. I had to think about that one. Once you grow out of grade school, you stop thinking about unrealistic wishes like a flying pony or superpowers. I shut my eyes tight and we dropped the coin in.  
  
I felt it splash with a small and that was it. No explosion of magic. No radiant light emitting from it's depths. Just the shallow sound of metal against tile. Peter's head rested on my shoulder as we both looked into the water. Little ripples frayed out, making the reflection of lights dance along the surface. He smirked and asked me,  
  
Did it work?  
  
I wrinkled a brow, I dunno.  
  
He stared at the coin for a good while, then grimaced- I bet you wished for something dull, didn't you?  
  
No I didn't! I replied.   
  
Yes you did! You wished for good grades. Or for your bills to get paid. Or your apartment to get cleaned.  
  
I did no such thing.  
  
I bet you don't even believe in _magic_ anymore! You don't even believe in wishes, do you?  
  
I growled playfully, How do you know I didn't wish for a pony?  
  
Hm. But there's where you're wrong. Cause when you grow up, you get your priorities all mixed up. All the magic leaves and you're sitting in a cubical until you rot all day! Grown ups just can't see. You don't know up from down. Or right from left, or North from--  
  
And suddenly, as if pushed from some invisible force, his body was shoved forward. He leaned in and kissed me, taking me in as much surprise as he was. Both his arms slipped around, settling on my waist and touching me tenderly. I could vaguely hear the quickened beats of his heart, the dull thumping settling into my own chest.  
  
As mysteriously as the action occurred, it ended with the slow letting of his lips pulling gently away from mine. I felt his hands tremble as softly as my own body before I looked up into two blearily confused eyes.  
  
Christ Cleo. he whispered lowly, all childishness leaking from his disposition, Wot did you wish for?  
  
I found my body arching forward, yearning more in a new found way that seemed to overtake me. Leaning into him, I planted a soft kiss on his lips that was not returned. Then again. His eyes slid shut and I felt his warm hands slide down my cheek and to the back of my neck. It was like falling, as if all consciousness had faded away into him.  
  
And there was that spark. An electrical shock that rolled throughout my entire body through the nerves of my lips. I felt my clothing and hair lift up from the back of my neck, and found myself surrounded by the pleasant tumbling static.  
  
But then my eyes sprung open. The hazy fog wrapped around my senses resided, and I woke up. Pulling back from him, I realized he had one of my hands on his chest. When his eyes slowly opened, I looked into his weary eyes in awe. To this Peter simply smiled, for I then realized that I was floating at least seven inches off the ground.  
  
Surprised no one had noticed, I opened my mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. Nothing until,  
  
I-I wished for..you.


	4. If I Should Fall

**The Dark Tales of Farie: Peter Pan  
**By C.D  
**  
  
  
Chapter 4: If I Should Fall   
**  
  
It was nearly 12:50 in the morning when we made it to the park. Most of the lights of the city were out, leaving nothing but a clear view of the stars. They didn't looked like little twinkling Christmas bulbs, they looked like someone had spilt glitter on the sky. Suddenly there were far too many stars than usual. It seemed magical.  
  
And magical that night was. Perhaps the power of magic was something that wasn't just in the farie tales. To turn a silly, playful wish into something passionately real was a shock to my senses. And quite frankly, even Peter was shocked at his sudden loss of control.  
  
Nevertheless our night was not over. When I was finished with our plans, he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me over to the neighborhood park. Levitating a bit the whole way. When we got there, he turned around to me and grinned wildly.  
  
I asked slowly, flinching from that _I've got something up my sleeve_' look, What are you doing? You know we should be getting home.  
  
My hands were grabbed and held in front of me before I knew what was going on.  
  
Yes yes, I know. But if you ever want to come to Neverland with me, you got to learn how to fly first. he said cheerfully.  
  
You're gon' to teach me how to fly? I asked, raising a brow, Oh Peter, can't we do this in the morning? I don't think-  
  
But, Cleo- he said remorsefully, I have to leave in the morning.  
  
What? Why? I asked, mind spinning in a whirlpool of thoughts.  
  
Peter sighed sadly, I look like I'm in my twenties, but to tell you the truth Cleo- I'm over one hundred fifty years old. If I stay here any longer than a few days at a time, The years will catch up with me even more.  
  
I looked down. Upon seeing this, his hands tightened around mine and brought my attention back up to him.  
  
Each visit adds ten years. In fact, the next time I come back, I'll probably look thirty. Peter paused ever so slightly before pulling me forward and hugging me, So- maybe, you can visit me someday. Right?  
  
I suppose, it made sense. Maybe. It seemed unfair. He unknowingly chose to make quite a predicament out of his life. As much as it hurt, I knew I couldn't hold onto him forever. And since I was now part of a messed farie tale, it would only make sense the prince wouldn't ride off with the princess. Things had gone wrong enough so far.  
  
I raised my head, Are flying lessons hard?  
  
He perked up immediately, Of course not, it's easy!  
  
Is this the part where I think happy thoughts and start jumping in the air like an idiot? I asked him. To this he laughed.  
  
Don't be silly! All you got to do is _want to_.  
  
_Want_ to? That's it? I asked him, Then what keeps millions of kids all over the world from zooming around like airplanes?  
  
he shook his head, rolling his eyes, Well you got to be touchin' me of course.  
  
Yeah, but Peter I don't think I should be-. And suddenly, I looked down to see a wonderful view of the park below me. I yiped and grabbed onto him in desperation. My feet dangled effortlessly below me, and doing this seemed to be pushing be further away from the ground. Another hesitant sound escaped my lips before I felt his hands on my shoulders.  
  
Oi Cleo. I'm not gonna let you fall, okay? he told me.  
  
With a small push I was sent out from his chest. And despite my yelling at him not to, he completely let go of me- and I winced waiting for the sharp impact down into the ground. Yet upon opening my eyes, I noticed I was fine; levitating in place as if underwater.  
  
Like before, my hair and clothes drifted away from my body, and I flipped my head up to Peter and laughed. It was amazing, and unreal. Like something from a dream only genuine. He cracked a small laugh, shaking his head and putting his hands in the pockets of his khakis. I soon found that if I stretched my body up, I would go up. It I arched my back right, I would go right. You get the picture.  
  
Peter. This is..it's.. I looked at him with my jaw dropped, Incredible. _You're_ incredible.  
  
Yeah. I know. he shrugged.  
  
I laughed, Who'd have thought I'd be talking to the real life Peter Pan a few weeks after my twenty second birthday.  
  
Suddenly the chime of Big Ben rang throughout the town. It was now one o'clock, and I looked at him and shrugged. It was getting pretty late, and that alcohol was beginning to kick in. The flying lesson was short and much appreciated, but I was looking forward to getting to bed a bit more. I was about to suggest we head home when he set a nervous hand behind his head and started to say something just as I did.  
  
We stopped for a brief moment, probably giving the other a chance to talk. But then when I opened my mouth to break the silence, he did the same. Both of us laughed a little before he floated over a little closer. Much closer.  
  
His gold and silver eyes danced back and forth nervously; and the flecks of metallic things slowly spun around his pupils.  
  
Cleo. I think something is wrong with me. he said frankly.  
  
I blinked, Wrong with you? What do you mean?  
  
It may be wot you real world folk call by then he loosened up and put his hands in his pockets.  
  
I raised a brow, finding my chest suddenly tight. Something was slowly creeping upon me, like a sensation of some kind. My rationality felt as if it wanted to laugh out loud and cry at the same time. And all brought on by those two unworldly eyes. Then abruptly, some unknown force flourished within me and pushed my body towards him. I floated toward him to a degree and set my fingertips on his waist.  
  
He jumped at this before his chest lowered ever so slightly. Slowly moving my fingertips over his ticklish spots, I further inquired..  
  
So you think you're ill. How did you figure this? I asked him.  
  
Peter swallowed hard, I think there's a bunch of insects fluttering around in my stomach.  
  
he continued, grabbing my hand as it came over his diaphragm, ..It makes the world spin when you do..that..  
  
I tilted my head to the side when he closed his eyes. His thumb gently ran up and down my hand when I asked him, When did- this first start, Peter?  
  
He hesitated for a good while, When that coin hit the bottom of the fountain.  
  
When you gave me a kiss?  
  
Peter opened his eyes and blinked,   
  
He flipped my hand right side up and looked at my palm, then the other. I bit my lip and smiled, trying not to laugh.  
  
I mean a thimble. I corrected myself.  
  
Peter's eyes grew slightly wide, and he blushed a little bit,   
  
But then he laughed and replied in his rich accent, But I think I rather liked that.  
  
I was about to say something when he spoke first, Cleo- I know I...well, you see..I've never.. he took a moment and sighed, I'm not too sure of myself in this world. I see things I've never seen. And felt things I've never felt. I've never grown up before, Cleo, and here I am. Peter said carefully.  
  
I blinked as he grabbed both my hands and held them out between us. He continued, But if I didn't know any better- I think those butterflies in my stomach mean...that I love you.  
  
There was a long period of silence then, and in all honesty it was my turn to say something. I remained quiet however, suddenly overtaken by the anxious feeling in my stomach. After a while, I snapped out of it, and realized I had to answer him sooner or later.  
  
So I took a deep breath and made ready to say something. Anything.  
  
Before I knew what was happening, Peter had breached the short distance that lay between us in one, quick motion. His hands moved up to touch my startled face, and as quick as a heartbeat I realized he was kissing me. The manner was deeply passionate and hopelessly urgent.  
  
I barely had time to react before his lips closed over mine. So gentle it felt, as if walking on glass in fear of causing damage. But I felt him, all of him- and his soul filtered into mine for a fleeting moment, revealing all the sheer pain he held within him. A lost boy separated from the world, raised himself and faced adversity. Gifted with powers he alone began to master.  
  
And the second time he took a step out of his world, he came face to face with an obstacle he wasn't quite sure how to overcome.   
  
And suddenly, something whirled against us like a blinking wind- and both our heads flipped to the side to look at it. There, levitating before us was Tinkerbell. Two black and purple wings fluttered violently by her side as fast as a humming bird's. And she looked good and pissed off.  
  
Uh..hi Tink. Peter smiled.  
  
she grimaced, Wot the fuck are you doing?  
  
Flying lessons. was his reply.  
  
Her dark, cakey eyes shifted back and forth before she sighed gruffly, You know we have only a few hours, don't you? I'm ready to get the fuck out of this ell hole.  
  
he grinned, I remembah.  
  
I looked at him frankly, I suppose every story needs and ending.  
  
Peter nodded.


	5. Gifts from the Sky

**The Dark Tales of Farie: Peter Pan  
**By C.D  
  
**  
Chapter 5: Gifts from the Sky  
**  
  
The morning that followed was a yucky one. Typical London weather revealed a rather small storm system had settled over the area. Yet in a sense it was a good thing, cause that way Peter and Tinkerbell could fly away in the cloud covering and not scare anyone.  
  
The clouds weren't gray, in fact they were an odd yellowish-gray color. I take it this spurred from the sunlight attempting to make it's way through.  
  
I sat on the top of our apartment building, which was a feat in itself considering the freakish slant of the roof. I looked down onto the filthy streets to see puddles. They didn't really look like puddles of water- more like circular mirrors someone placed about the city.   
  
There was a knock beneath me, accompanied by Trestand's tired voice, Oi! Cleo! You done playin' Marry Poppins? Come down here!  
  
I sighed and crept back into the window and tumbled out on Trestand's floor. I opened my eyes to see two feet by my ears, and then..as I looked above me...  
  
Christ Trestand!! I shouted, covering my eyes, Do you mind? Put some pants on for dignity's sake!!  
  
Aw come on. he said, a cigarette bouncing in his lips as he grabbed his jeans off the floor, You know you liked it.  
  
Oh God.. I said trying to find the door from behind my winced eyes, I can still see it when I close my eyes!  
  
  
***  
  
  
It was drizzling when we made it out to the square. The square was a circular point in the road they probably meant to put a statue in the center of someday. But knowing British people they must have gotten side-tracked.   
  
Trestand and I stood side by side, across from Peter and Tinkerbell. The clouds had managed to retain their sickly color, and it brought an awkward mood about things. Peter had changed into the clothes I found him in, since we had cleaned the blood off of them. He sighed and looked up into the sky as Tinkerbell lit a cigarette.  
  
Peter took out a golden pocket watch with an unnecessarily long chain and looked at the time. When he looked back up to me I shrugged.  
  
Well, thank you for saving me Cleo and...you. Peter said to us. I think he forgot Trestand's name.  
  
Have a safe trip back, okay? I said, And any time you wanna get your arse kicked by pirates, you know where to come.  
  
The dark haired boy grinned, Right. I'll remember that. And hey- don't forget I'll come back for ya someday!  
  
You just be sure an not come back when I'm fifty with children. I've seen the play, Peter. I warned.  
  
Don't worry about it. You can trust me.  
  
I raised a brow and he laughed. Before I knew it, he rushed forward and hugged me- picking me up off the ground and turning around once. His strength was so great I felt I was going to be crushed and die right there on the streets of London. When Peter set me back on the ground, I blinked and looked over his shoulder.  
  
Grabbing his chin, I arched Peter's head towards his farie accomplice as she kissed Trestand full and hard on the lips. His shabby blonde hair shadowed his eyes, but I'm pretty sure they were as wide as saucers. Peter's eyes blinked in sync with mine as we watched her practically try and eat his face.  
  
When Tinkerbell was done, I noticed she had the collar of his shirt in her fist. The gothic farie smiled evilly at him and said,  
  
Until next time, Spam. she said to him.  
  
Then Peter and her backed up side to side, and Tinkerbell unfolded her huge transparent purple wings. As he began to levitate upward a little, her wings fluttered about violently and she followed. Never taking our eyes off them, I leaned closer to Trestand as we waved.  
  
Did she just call you Spam? I said out of the corner of my lips.  
  
Don't ask. Was his reply in the same manner.  
  
As the two waved back, we shouted things up to them like:  
  
Bye! See you soon!  
  
Safe trip back!  
  
Don't forget to write!!  
  
But after a while Peter and Tinkerbell were no more than little black specks up there in the sky. And I couldn't help but remember that it was raining that day too.  
  
Well Trestand. There goes some wierd...wierd people.. I sighed.  
  
You don't know the half of it. haha..ha..spam.. he said, progressing into a suggestively sexual laugh as he stuck out his skinny little tummy.  
  
I smacked my forehead and covered my eyes, Damnit! What makes you think I want to know these things?! Please!!  
  
And just before I lost complete sight of them as they ascended into the cloud cover, I smiled to myself thinking how lucky a girl I must be. To meet a guy like that in a dingy little alley way on the street. I would have reminiscenced longer, if my sleeve wasn't being pulled in sudden urgency.  
  
said Trestand, black lipstick smeared all over his face, Zombie girl. You all right?  
  
I smiled, I'm fine.  
  
Over the sound of Trestand suggesting we catch the newest Twilight Zone episode down at the theater, I heard a small chime behind me. Like a piece of metal whistling down to earth and clinking against the ground. I pivoted my foot and looked behind me to see nothing- not a single soul in sight.  
  
But upon looking down a few feet in front of me, I saw something peculiar. When I bent down to see what it was, I was surprised to realize it wasn't a piece of shrapnel at all.  
  
It was a thimble.  
  
  
**THE END**


End file.
